The most obscure and by far the most "lost" of the Lost squadron was a French
National who's name is believed to have been Jacques Levesque. He wasn't an official
member of the squadron due to his nationality and poor hygiene. His very existence
had been the subject of much debate until recently when photos of Levesque surfaced,
including one of him surrendering to what appear to be a group of Turkish Pre-school
children. Several differing accounts of Levesques cowardly existence have been
brought forth, the most probable account follows.

Jacques in his natural pose

All that is known of Levesques pre war existence is
that he was born in 1889, the 5th bastard son of a piano bar gigolo and part time
mortician. Levesques childhood consisted of being shuttled from one saloon
owner to the other where he would demonstrate the latest embalming techniques for the
patrons in exchange for his room and board. This would make lasting friendships very
difficult for any child, combined with Jacques personal hygiene habits, friendship became
impossible. Thus Jacques early years were filled with loneliness and heartache.
In many people a childhood such as this would have doomed them to a life of mental
torment and emotional bankruptcy, and Jacques was one of those people. Additional
knowledge of his early personal life is limited to the fact that he had an extensive
collection of belly button lint that he claimed came from some of the most famous bellies
in the world. More than likely the majority came from Jacques own belly and perhaps
some from between his toes, the author defers discussion on this point. Some records
show that he did serve in the French army until coming within several miles of the front
whereupon he realized how very loud the war actually was. It is believed that he
then simply deserted. How he wound up in Gallipoli has been lost to history.
It is quite possible that he merely got lost. Although he is reported to have
mentioned to Bunny Osgood that it was a good thing he had towels during the journey. The
exact meaning of that statement has never been determined and apparently, Bunny was,
understandably, disgusted enough not to inquire any further.

Sources do indicate that he was not in the region long before he met up
with the squadron. Knowing that his own history was as unremarkable as it was
repugnant, Levesque decide to claim the identify of one of his fellow Frenchmen. Ap-
parently Levesque told the Englishmen that he was the French Ace, Jean Navarre.
Navarre had made quite a name for himself driving the Germans from the skies in a
Red Nieuport over the battlefields of Verdun. Few of the squadron, save Cmdr
Heydor-Whetwissel, actually believed he was Navarre and those that did, were quite drunk.
Most of the squadron members had their individual quirks and this minor
indiscretion was overlooked by the rest of the group. His one saving grace as a
human, was the fact that Jacques was an accomplished whiskey distiller. This
obviously picked up in the various saloons and brothels that made up Jacques childhood.
His particular specialty was a concoction he referred to as Feline Cadaver 151
(FC151). While it is questionable if any actual cat material was used in its
creation several other squadron members diaries do record that the cat population seemed
to decline steeply from the day of Jacques arrival.

It was also only a short time after
his appearance that Jacques was given the moniker "The Mole" as much for his
annoying habit of burrowing into the nearest sand dune at the first sign of trouble or
soap, as it was for the fact that he actually looked very much like a mole. Out of
gratitude for his distilling abilities he was assigned to a derelict Nieuport, which he
immediately painted bright red in order that should he misplace it, it would be easier to
locate. It was not long, however, before it was evident to all involved that Jacques
had not the flying ability or the raw courage of a veteran fighter pilot, or even that of
the average gigolo's son. The mole held tight to his assertion that he was
Navarre and that he just forgot how to fly on his long journey from Paris. The
squadron was in time able to make Jacques into a passable pilot, and bestowed upon him the
honorary rank of 2nd Lt., but courage was something they could not instill. On one
occasion while conduction routine observation, Jacques turned his red Nieuport and flew
home at a blistering speed. His rational for the sudden and completely unnecessary
retreat was that, "Whilst I was keeping an eye on the Turks I saw several of them
looking fiercely at moi". If more evidence to his legendary "lack of
spirit" or cowardice was needed it came when, as mentioned before, The Mole
surrendered to a group of school children that been pelting him with pomegranate rinds for
the better part of five minutes. The latter incident caused several junior members
of the squadron to call for his arrest and trial for cowardice. All talk of the
matter was dropped when it was pointed out that if The Mole was arrested someone
would have to guard him. That person would also have the particularly distasteful duty of
actually having to talk to him. This was a sacrifice none were willing to accept, and they
reasoned that the pomegranate rind could blind one if they impacted on the eyes.
What went undocumented was simply, that if The Mole went, so went the whiskey.
Levesque continued to "serve" alongside the British pilots until the end of the
war. Several reports of his whiskey coupled with Pinkie Heeps "High
Teas" were legendary. His record was completely unremarkable save the fact that
he managed to avoid every single instance where there was actual fighting and the one bomb
he did drop failed to detonate. The bombing incident was most fortunate owing to the
fact that Jacques dropped it as he was carrying it to his aircraft. He claimed too
have been attacked by a unusually large desert clam. This occurred after the
aforementioned High Tea. Jacques was awarded a medal for bravery, and the standing
members of the squadron searched for the clam till they passed out (alcohol or fatigue is
not documented).

Little is known of The Moles life after the war. However rumors persisted that he
had been killed in a tragic penguin trapping accident, and yet other reports indicate he
moved to the island nation of Borneo and ironically became the worlds first motivational
speaker.